


Trailing Fingers

by fallenrose24



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles, Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 21:46:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13444038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenrose24/pseuds/fallenrose24
Summary: (Spoilers through Chapter 6) Mὸrag and Brighid hold on to a night of peace between them.





	Trailing Fingers

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a gorgeous piece of art...
> 
> Could probably be considered a sequel to one of my earlier fics: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13295892

Warm fingers trail down the smooth skin of her sweat-soaked back. The lazy pattern they make lull her to the boundary of sleep, but she fights back to linger in the moment as long as she can. Her own hands are threaded through a cascade of amethyst. Gently, she tightens her hold on the silken hair as she buries her face deeper into the heated skin against her cheek.

Peace.

Complete and utter peace.

That’s what this feels like.

It’s a rare moment for them - alone and locked in a blissful embrace.

Only hours ago, they had been shivering against the snow, bodies racked with physical defeat and the emotional bleed of loss. Their long trek back to Theosoir had been silent and almost an imaginative blur. She had never felt so overpowered. It was her disbelief that she could be so easily thrown aside that made her lash out so rashly. All it had earned her were bruises across her neck and the terrified cry of her Blade burned into her heart. Brighid had helped carry her weight as they dragged their feet back to Anastasia’s… too ashamed to be seen by the King or his subjects.

Nothing could assuage her deep seeded feeling of guilt, but Brighid… the warmth of her hands, the soothing balm of her voice, and the love she so gently wrapped around her skin with every touch was enough to make her remember. They had lost much, but she still had so much to live for.

Brighid had removed her uniform with near reverence. Each gear was turned and button undone with care. When the coat had finally been pushed off her slumped shoulders, burning hands had soothed over every inch of exposed skin. Her undershirt had followed quickly, warn fingers tracing each contour of her sculpted torso.

The touch was healing.

Her belt was unclasped, pants allowed to pool around her bootless ankles. She could feel the cool sheets press against her bare back, contrasting the heat of Brighid’s flame above her. Every cell in her body screamed to be closer, to be buried in her warmth and be cradled in her security. Their fingers danced over exposed skin, voices ringing out in soft pleasure.

Slowly, the pain melted away.

Mὸrag collapsed against her chest, body and mind spent and bathed in the warmth of a loving flame. Her lips press lazily over Brighid’s searing core crystal. Those fingers against her back… they brought her a feeling of serenity she had only every known within the embrace of these gently burning arms.

Perhaps it was a terribly selfish thing to think, but Mὸrag could not help but be grateful that her Blade had not been the one they lost.

Her heart seized with theoretical fear for only a moment before a kiss to her damp hair soothed it away. Overwhelmed by the calming bliss, she kissed a trail up along the skin of Brighid’s chest and neck, spurred on by the sighs of pleasure they earned her. She continued her journey until their foreheads were pressed against one another, lips meeting and breaking over and over…

“Don’t ever leave me, Brighid.”

It was a declaration of love.

“We go together, always, Lady Mὸrag.”

One body. One heart. One soul.

On a blissful night in Theosoir, they held on to this fleeting feeling of unity and love as fingers trailed over heated skin.


End file.
